Curtain Call
by Her Name Is Erika
Summary: Lola Martinez can recall the day she starts liking Logan Reese. It’s in ninth grade – her second day at Pacific Coast Academy. And then he opens his mouth and it all goes downhill from there.


**A/N: I'm in a no talking mood. I've only written about the dynamics of this 'friendship' once or twice, so yeah. It's gonna be short (well, by MY standards). Enjoy. Review? **

**I'm on a no-title roll only because I feel like it's a restriction. I don't like feel like I have to be restricted – main reason I don't have a Twitter and am way more content with LiveJournal. Yeah, I'll shut up and let you read.**

**PS. I have the sneezies and can't sleep. Boo. **

**Disclaimer: Nah. **

* * *

"It was a freak accident – just like Logan's birth."

-- Lola, _People Auction_

* * *

Lola Martinez can recall the day she starts liking Logan Reese.

It's in ninth grade – her second day at Pacific Coast Academy.

She remembers this because sometimes, she finds herself missing the way she rocks the brightly coloured streaks intertwined with her dark brown hair.

Sure, she thinks with a small smile, he's hot and his tanned skin is really hard to resist –

She starts liking him until he smirks at her in English class and he says, "I'm Logan Reese. I'm hot. You're cute and a girl – meaning you want to make out with me like all the rest. Wanna make out?"

And then he opens his mouth and it all goes downhill from there.

* * *

"Sooner or later – you'll want me too."

-- Logan, _Goodbye Zoey_

* * *

She seriously doesn't hate him. Lola swears on her Shakespeare series collection.

It's just that Lola is _slightly_ repulsed by him and would continuously bang over her head over and over against the lunch table if she doesn't bruise easily. She's a future Oscar Winner and giant self-induced bruises aren't very trendy to walk the long red carpet with.

Logan just really grates along her last sane nerve, even though she'll be playing his leading lady in the last play she'll ever do at Pacific Coast Academy.

And – ugh.

"Lola," Mrs. Brimmer says upon seeing her glossed lips pursed into a thin line and her arms crossed. The older woman adjusts the blue wool shawl that just falls around her shoulders and lets out a careful sigh, rubbing her temples slightly. "You're talented, dedicated to whatever character you play and you will be a star because what you have is special, but there is no better young man to play Tony than Logan Reese. I saw the theatrical chemistry between the two of you."

"You didn't look hard enough. I'm all for the theatre. I love the theatre but you didn't cast better."

She really didn't because there's that Henry kid – the one who been to acting camp for seven years in a row. Mrs. Brimmer holds a hand out to interrupt the brunette because her lips aren't pursed anymore and that usually means she's about to protest this…injustice to the art of theatre.

"Rest assured – I was going to cast Henry as Tony until," the older woman clears her throat awkwardly. "Well, he was befallen with a terrible case of mono."

Lola blinks.

"Mononucleosis, dear," Mrs. Brimmer clarifies. "Known as the kissing disease."

"Oh. Eww," she replies with completed wrinkled nose. "But he'll get better, right?"

"No, but I can put in Stacy Dillsen as the understudy if you quit even though her acting is terrible regardless of her speech impediment being cured," she pulls her glasses downward slightly so Lola gets a view of her warm brown eyes. "And then the last show you ever do at PCA will be starring Stacy with all those talent scouts in the front row."

"Oh, God."

Lola's going to have to swallow her pride, and whatever feelings she may feel towards her co-star because this could be her big break and it's like she can taste Broadway.

"Tell me I didn't write that recommendation letter to NYU in vain, Lola."

Feeling the corners of her mouth twitch upwards, she's filled with a sense of gratitude.

"I'll see you at rehearsal, dear. Tuesdays and Thursdays after school," the drama teacher says, placing a hand lightly on her shoulder and Lola feels herself nodding.

Mrs. Brimmer smiles but her smile is a little sad.

So much for screaming, "MacBeth," at the top of her lungs. But she's really close.

* * *

"I can't believe I'm transporting Logan Reese's underpants."

-- Lola, _Logan Gets Cut Off_

* * *

It's moments like this that Lola really treasures – a quiet night away from everybody while in the hammock under a bunch of pretty stars with her best friend. It's swinging slightly, and a heartbeat goes by before the comfortable silence is broken.

"I chose Stanford."

"What?"

"My father went to the University of Washington, and my grandfather went to Harvard," Quinn replies, eyes trained upwards even though she can feel strands of Lola's hair brush against her upper arm. Again, she repeats the first statement. "So, I chose Stanford – wanted to stay here in California because truthfully speaking, I find change kind of daunting but I find repetition sort of mundane."

New York is across the country away from adventures at PCA and its idyllic surroundings. It's away from stupid teenager things, unlikely romances, and squabbles with insults that are somewhat superficial because they only dent at the surfaces and dirty looks that are sort of, maybe temporary.

Lola doesn't know these days.

"I love you, Quinn," she says, meeting Quinn's eyes. "You're like my sister now. I'll miss you. A lot."

The brunette smiles, her eyes shining behind her glasses and they link arms while enjoying the sight of a star-filled sky. It has dark navy blue, almost black backdrop making them ten times brighter than usual.

"That means a lot to me, Lola. I've come to treasure our friendship as well. I know you're looking out for my best interests and Logan's history isn't that spotless but he is a person."

She almost resists the urge to roll her eyes.

Maybe she does it and doesn't remember, or maybe she does it and doesn't think about it too much.

"And?" Lola snorts, and shakes her head slightly. "You're his girlfriend – I've accepted that already on the condition that there's no PDA or lovey-doveyness right in front of me."

"Again, that's appreciated," Quinn replies, and trails off. "Sort of. But there's one thing I don't understand fully."

"Well, my issue with peanut butter and jelly sandwiches started when I was four – "

Quinn sighs, turning her head slightly so they lock gazes. "No, Lola. What I fail to understand is why you and Logan antagonize each other so much. I actually thought about and brought up my own analysis of your dynamic. And thankfully, it's not about me."

Lola groans, "Do I have to listen to this?"

"Basically, yes," the brunette prodigy affirms and explains. "I think _deep down_ you actually tolerate Logan, and he can tolerate you. But antagonizing and bickering with each other just seems more…what's the right word?" she snaps her fingers. "Normal. You both want to achieve a sense of normalcy and that is precisely how you go about it. Especially now that we're graduating soon."

No, that's not it at all. No way. Uh-uh.

Logan Reese is a dolt with great hair – and a stupid one at that so yeah, Lola's going to call him out.

"I'm right," Quinn says finally with a knowing smile when she settles slightly deeper into the hammock, in a proud tone. "As per usual."

Instead, Lola says nothing when a shooting star streaks by and wishes that for once, Quinn is _wrong_.

* * *

"OW – OW! SHE'S BITING MY EAR!"

-- Logan, _Rollercoaster_

* * *

"Brava!" Mrs. Brimmer says, clapping enthusiastically at the end of Logan and Lola's last musical number of the show – a modern-day interpretation of _West Side Story_ that Chase writes in his Tuesday & Thursday Study Hall Period, and then Lisa adds a two and thousand and nine spin to the original music and choreography while adding current music for moods and ambiences. Mrs. Brimmer grins, setting her clipboard aside. "That was a good rehearsal, people! Last run-through including the scene where Tony dies in Maria's arms will be all day Tuesday with the opening show being next week!"

The older woman sighs with a sense of resolution while the actors all grab their belongings and scurry along and she herself retreats to her office.

Chase leaves with a mission to get some sleep before dinner because he's just the kid behind the grand piano and really, he's not getting involved. Lisa turns to Lola and Logan as he slips his bag on one shoulder, and Lola's pulling her right arm through the sleeves of her light sweatshirt.

"You guys were really good."

"Obviously," Logan replies in that cocky tone. "I just made it way better."

"I just made it better," the actress mimics with a roll of her brown eyes as Lisa just lets out a sigh and calmly walks away because she's only playing _Anita_, the shadow to Lola's role _Maria_ but that's okay since Anita and Lisa are very much the same people – loyal friends and the voice of reason. Lola continues, unaware that Lisa has slipped away from the theatre building because Michael isn't kidding about Logan and Lola's issues. "Get the hell over yourself – you were sharp anyway."

"Right because you were _that_ graceful."

"Excuse me?" she questions incredulously, with raised eyebrow. "I'm a better dancer than your singing. And yeah, I could probably sing better than you too."

There's a sunset and this Thursday is almost over.

Logan narrows his eyes, and just like their fictional gangs – their glares clash and cause friction.

He smirks, and Lola just looks at him and – ugh.

"I can sing and dance circles around you."

"You're just lucky there's a battle dancing scene. Sharks will totally destroy you guys!"

"Pfft – it's all about the Jets which are way better for your information!"

And she totally thwacks him really hard and walks away to her dorm with a smile of genuine satisfaction.

In her head, this argument is number 23635 – a totally made-up number even though it feels that way and the feelings are _always_ the same.

And the formal title is of this argument – The One Where Lola Wishes She Could Wring Logan With One of Her Newly-Knitted Scarves Because She's Actually Really Good At Knitting.

* * *

"We have to do _bad things_ to that boy!"

-- Lola, _Logan Gets Cut Off_

* * *

"Hello there," a deep voice says, tickling her earlobe while big, familiar hands go over her eyes. "Guess who?"

Lola knows the smell of his cologne and his own natural scent when he wears his football jersey. So, she grins like a child on a Christmas morning, accompanied by pure white snowfall blanketing New York gently. Placing her slender hands over the hands over her eyes, Lola smiles and gently pulls them off.

"Vince!"

"Hey hotness," he greets with a smile and captures her lips in a kiss long overdue. He pulls away and she climbs into his lap because he's just so comfortable, slender arms around his neck. The quad and the fountain becomes their backdrop. He smiles softly, grip slightly tightening around her waist. "I missed you, babe."

"I missed you too. So," Lola grows excited, and claps her hands together. "The musical is opening tomorrow."

"Ah, yes. I heard about that while my baby sister was being born a couple days ago."

Lola gasps, eyes wide, "Oh my God! No way! What's her name? Where are the baby pictures?"

Vince laughs at his girlfriend's excitement and the onslaught of questions.

"My older sister, Valencia, had to fly in from Jersey and just barely made it in time," he recalls fondly and cringes at the memory of his mother almost cutting the circulation of his hand and his father passing out at the baby starting to crown. "Now, I'm the middle child, and my sister's name Veronica Roseanne Blake, and," Vince reaches into his back pocket to retrieve his cell phone. " – here she is."

Lola smiles gently, upon seeing the sight of an infant baby girl swaddled in pink blanket sleeping peacefully.

"Aw, she's so cute!" she coos, and kisses Vince's cheek. Vince closes the phone and presses a kiss to Lola's temple, pulling her close. "You'll be a good brother, baby. How's your mom?"

"She's up and being a chatterbox – she asks about you all the time. So, what's this I hear about you being the dynamite actress you are and getting the leading lady part in this year's production of a modern-day _West Side Story_?"

She smiles and nods, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. "Obviously. The show is tomorrow."

"I'll be there first row with a bouquet of roses in my arms for you," Vince promises and then he gets a stern warning in his voice that's playful. "But I think I should have a little talk with Logan about getting fresh with my woman."

"You think you could shove him down the stairs?" she ponders, while Vince laughs.

"Before therapy that would have fine but now, not so much. Don't you kind of need him?"

"I could act my way through it. I'm that _good_, right?"

"Lola," he strokes the apple of her tanned cheek. "Sweetie, you're the best and when you get an Oscar, I'll be right on the red carpet with you, but even you can't pull that off."

She hugs him, as she fits into Vince's arms perfectly.

Fine, okay? Lola sort of needs Logan in a _whatever, you're my co-star_ kind of way.

But she craves a fat-free Doodlecake more.

* * *

"Kissing me will not influence my decision!"

-- Logan, _Miss PCA_

* * *

"Okay," Lola sighs, because she's feeling strangely mature and maybe it's the Maria in her. "Can we call a truce just for tonight?"

Logan is in the make-up chair, looking dressed down as Tony with a girl expertly applying makeup.

"Why?" Logan repeats as a question and it's really starting to irritate her lightly. He diverts his attention to the make-up girl. "Get my nose. I'm not going out there if it's shiny."

Sam, the make-up girl, sighs wearily before she's done. "All done, Logan."

"You can go now."

"Thank _God_. Ugh."

Lola watches as Sam stalks away, make-up in tow because Logan has that effect on most people who aren't in love with him.

"Now," Lola says, placing a hand on her hip in full costume. "I wanna call a truce. If I act like I really can't stand you – which is true, I can't concentrate on my character and act like I'm in love with you, and pretty much secure my future with those talent scouts out there," she threatens, narrowing her eyes dangerously in his direction. "And if my future sucks, you better believe I'm taking you down with me."

"Would you relax?" he laughs, and hops out of his make-up because the major dance and party scene is almost coming up and Lola won't say it, but he does amazingly well for the first scene as Tony.

But yeah, her favourite scene so far is the one she just performs with Lisa as Anita.

"No because that's what you say before something stupid comes out of your mouth."

"Someone forgot to take their meds today."

"Your head's just way too hollow, huh?"

"You know what – "

"Logan! Lola!" Mrs. Brimmer calls when she strides over to them. She claps her hands excitedly. "Oh good, you two are already prepared. Now, when Tony and Maria see each other for the first time, there are shared glances across the space and hidden smiles while the Sharks and the Jets end up at the same street party and battle dance," she sighs, dreamily. "Oh, but you two – you're meeting for the first time and introduce yourselves. Sparks, okay?"

Mrs. Brimmer walks away, effectively ending the intermission. "Places, people! Pull the curtain!"

"Truce. Now."

She's telling him – not asking. Clearly, telling him.

"Whatever," is his reply and he takes her hand and slipped it into his own, fingers interlocking. It's all an act and he sighs, sending a smirk at her. "Let's go act like we're in love, Martinez."

She smiles a smile that is teasing. "Fine, but I'll just rip into you tomorrow."

"Bring it."

Quinn and her correct Logan&Lola theories.

As for wishful thinking – second time's the charm.

* * *

The curtain is pulled up, spotlight falls and the truce is effectively immediately.

But never ask about it. (Seriously, don't.)

* * *

**A/N: Here it is. I hope Logan and Lola weren't too OOC here. I'm kind of worried about that. After this, you will get a Zogan oneshot. I have a Logan/Zoey oneshot left in me. So all you Zogan fans, and equally open minded people will be happy.**

**This is my entry for the All-Pairing UC Challenge, but this is not romantic, I assure you. Anyhow, please drop feedback and tell me what you thought about it. It's two-thirty in the morning so if there are any errors and such, I'll go back and fix them in the morning. **

**Goodnight & to my fellow Canadians, Happy Thanksgiving. Oh, and those same Canadians in university, Happy Reading Week – clearly, we needed it =] **

**Review? **

**-Erika**


End file.
